


Check Yes Juliet

by LycanTears



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Closeted Character(s), Creepy adult(s), F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Lydia Martin, Minor Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Scackson Week 2018, Warning: Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-08-22 03:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16590173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LycanTears/pseuds/LycanTears
Summary: For Scackson Week 2018; Beginnings. AU where Scott lives with his dad.





	1. Check Yes Juliet

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings: I'm a snail going in circles, so this gonna be loooong hike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Check Yes Juliet -We The Kings

Loud music saturated the house, air stuffy from the heat of bodies dancing and jumping in the packed hallroom. Scott's fingers were a blur on his guitar, sweat glistening on his face. He wishes he had taken off his jacket.

The early spring night has gotten too warm. Under the neon lights, everyone looked shapeless and alien, familiar neighbors to strangers. People writhing and flailing their limbs in reckless abandon. Scott feels giddy watching them, could feel his chest start to tighten. Maybe he shouldn't have had that punch.

Kyle bowed over the mic, belting his heart out and Casey's biceps bulged as he struck the drums. The crowd sang along, a jumble of butchered lyrics. Scott chuckled and shakes the hair out of his eyes. He's still too hot and his hands were itching to reach into his pocket for the inhaler. He keeps playing, focusing on his breathing and waiting it out. By the time the song finished to cheers, the pressure had let up and Scott breathes easy again.

"Thank you! This has been Jonas Brotherrrrrs!!" Kyle yelled. His friends hooted and dragged him into the restless crowd. Scott sets down the guitar carefully and made way for people setting up a deejay booth. He takes off his jacket and draped it over the guitar.

"You panting a little hard there, Scotty." Casey pressed a worried palm on his back. Scott replied with a reassuring smile and shrugged. He really has been managing his asthma better.

"Aw he's a big boy, Case." Kyle shoved himself between them and proceeded to drag his cousin and best friend off towards the kitchen. "Now enjoy the party, but go easy on the alcohol. I don't need your dad hounding on about 'being a bad influence' again."

"No problem. I'll be sure to drain the whole keg." Scott grins at the incredulous looks Kyle and Casey gave him.

"Little shit!!" His cousin ruffled his hair roughly and Scott laughed in protest. He gets pushed towards the buffet line and Kyle flips him the bird. "Behave, Scotty!"

Scott affects a groan and rolled his eyes. He waves them off and shuffled away from the food queue. He is thirsty though, so he grabbed a plastic cup and headed for the drinks. Scott avoids the beer and the obviously spiked punch. But a guy with cropped blonde hair was hogging the juice bar.

"Um, excuse me?" The guy jerks around and Scott finds himself face to face with Jackson Whittemore.

Jackson Whittemore as in the unprecedented freshman captain of Scott's High School Lacrosse team. Jackson Whittemore as in the hot rich popular jock who definitely does not live in this neighborhood. Jackson Whittemore who is always dressed like a model out of a magazine and most probably doesn't run the same circle as Kyle's grunge buddies. Jackson Whittemore also looks like he's had too much drink. His face was flushed pretty, hooded eyes narrowing.

"What are you looking at?" Jackson snapped. Scott realised he had been staring.

"Uhh..." He gulped and backed right into a couple.

"Ugh!"

"Oops, sorry!"

Oh. Oh no it's The Lydia Martin and that beautiful new girl Allison. What are they doing here, what are they all doing here?!

"Jackson! There you are!" Lydia brushed right past him, making a beeline for her boyfriend while Allison glanced at Scott apologetically. Scott looks around in confusion. Is there anyone else from school at this party?

It was kinda hard to see with the hall's dim lighting, but he's pretty sure that was Danny heading upstairs with a guy, each carrying an innocuous package. Under the lit kitchen lights, Lydia, Allison, and Jackson totally stand out with their glamorous outfits.

Scott shrugged to himself and tried to edge around the trio. He really only wanted to get a drink. The golden mango sirop is calling out to him alluringly. Maybe the popular kids are out gatecrashing parties, that's a thing right? Besides, it's not like they know who he is anyway.

Allison and Lydia have their fingers entwined.

Scott blinks owlishly, unsure why he's fixating on their joined hands. As if noticing the attention, Lydia snatched her hand away and posed it on her hip, clearing her throat loudly. Scott looks up to see the three of them glaring at him.

"Oh. Um. Can I get some juice now?" He puts on his friendliest smile and hopes they won't shred him to pieces.

Lydia squints at him calculatingly while Jackson looks like he's about to punch his face.

"Never mind, I'll just-"

Allison interrupted Scott by shoving a bottle of hard liquor into his chest. Whoa, where did that come from? He hurries to grab it before the glass could fall. It's hefty and looks extra expensive.

In his confusion, Scott gets steered back into the hallway and suddenly has Allison linking arms with him. Wait a minute what's happening?? 

"He's cute, he can come with us." Allison nonchalantly declared. Scott's sure his face is red at being called cute. She's talking about him right? He's not hearing things?

Lydia scrunched her nose in a very un-Lydia like manner as she pulled Jackson along. "Wipe that smirk off your face, chump."

Scott turned his gaze ceiling-ward. Who wouldn't smile after getting complimented from such a pretty girl? Allison grins at him charmingly and Scott could feel his face mirroring her smile. He's getting the butterflies as she tugged him along.

They tailed after Lydia who's towing Jackson towards the stairs. Scott looks back towards the juice bar longingly. His throat feels so dry and he had really wanted to try a mango strawberry blend. But Allison was holding his arm hostage and making him carry this heavy bottle of... whatever.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lydia made an odd movement and Jackson stumbled backwards into them both.

"Whoa, you okay?" Scott freed a hand to steady Jackson. "Maybe you should sit down."

Instead of helping to support her friend, Allison plucked his empty cup and the bulky bottle she had put into Scott's hands in the first place. Scott needed both arms anyway as Jackson leaned his deadweight onto scrawny little Scott. Oof. Despite his lean appearance the jock is a solid mass of muscles, and Scott's palming his rock hard abs now.

Lydia snaps to Allison's side, a suspiciously victorious smile of her bright red lips. "Oh we're sitting him down alright. Upstairs." It was spoken with the authority of a queen. 

Lydia hooked an arm though Allison's, and they both stare him down. Scott has the distinct feeling of a sheep being corralled. Sighing heavily and accepting his fate as a gopher, Scott braced Jackson and carefully led the way up the stairs. Lydia and Allison follow with conspiratorial giggling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OTP: juice enthusiasts


	2. The Great Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Great Escape -Boys Like Girls

Jackson grunted when he's dumped on the bed, eyes still stubbornly closed. The girls stood blocking the doorway, and Scott raised an eyebrow.

"Anything else I can help with?" He's not sincere honestly, Scott's voice was already sounding raspy.

Allison shoves the liquor at him again, and something crinkled against Scott's hand as he took it. She plopped the cup over the bottle neck.

"Yeah, just one last thing." Lydia and Allison shared a mischievous grin. "Keep him company for us."

Scott blinks as they closed the door on him. Their giddy laughter faded off before he heard another door close somewhere. Even the noisy mess of the party downstairs sounded so distant. Scott sighs and contemplates the drink in his hands, and opens his palm to find that Allison had slipped him a packet of condom.

What the- is this a prank? Some sort of dare?

Scott feels his irritation welling up and drops the packet. He sets the bottle on a dresser a little loudly.

"You can leave if you want."

Jackson's somber voice startled him and Scott turned to see the guy propped up on his arms.

"Wuh- you were faking?! I had to lug you up the stairs!"

Jackson looked down his nose condescendingly. "If I hadn't they wouldn't leave me alone." He said acidly as if stating something obvious.

Jackson sat up and proceeded to take off his shoes. Scott groaned inwardly and started for the door.

"And it wasn't like you didn't enjoy it, I could feel you groping me."

Scott's mouth dropped open as Jackson gives him a pointed look.

"I didn't!" Scott almost choked on his indignance. "I was trying not to get us rolling down the stairs!"

He's getting really heated at the smarmy sneer Jackson was giving him.

"Don't get defensive, I know you'd like some of this." Jackson smugly puffed himself up and Scott almost scoffed. He makes a point to give Jackson a once-over, disdain plainly on his face.

"No, thanks, you're not my type."

Oddly enough, this made Jackson extremely offended. His jaw tigheted and he leapt off the bed, getting into Scott's face with speed a drunk shouldn't have. Scott flinched when Jackson slammed both hands against the door that Scott has backed up against. He's effectively cornered and Scott tries to shrink into himself.

"Oh please, I'm everyone's type."

But not your girlfriend's obviously, Scott doesn't bite back. He really didn't want a taste of Jackson's fist. He's got a little height over Jackson but it's no real advantage in a fight.

"Yeah, sure. You are." Scott gulps and tries placatingly.

He doesn't expect Jackson to smush their faces together. His breath reeks of drink and tastes bitter. Scott jolted when their tongues frictioned, unsure when he'd opened his mouth and closed his eyes. Whoa, Jackson's tongue is in his mouth??

He's snogging the most popular guy in his school, Scott couldn't believe it. How did it end up like this?

Hands slipped under his shirt and Scott yelped, head banging back painfully into the door.

"What, you chickening out?" Jackson snapped, vicious tone at odds with his glazed eyes and slack jaw.

Scott frowned. "You're drunk." Jackson snorted and tugged at his shirt.

"Is this part of being Lydia's beard? You sleep with who she tells you to?"

BANG!!

Jackson had punched the wall so hard that the impact rang through the brickwork. Yep, he's dead. Scott screwed his eyes shut as his collar was grabbed.

"I'm  _not_ her beard!" Jackson hissed. "She's just dating us both!"

Jackson's nostrils flared with anger and Scott waited for the punch. But Jackson didn't hit him. Instead he roughly pulled off Scott's shirt and Scott struggled not to get trapped.

"It's Allison's idea. She's worried I'd get 'lonely'." Eyes rolling at the ridiculous notion. "Anyway, this is just a one time thing." He glares at Scott, daring the boy to talk again. 

Scott thinks Jackson is plenty lonely if he wants to get down with a complete nobody that he's never spared a glace at ever. But he keeps the thought to himself and watches Jackson back away, seemingly satisfied. Scott rubs his bared arms uncomfortably, noting that Jackson didn't question how he knew Lydia. Then again, everyone knows The Lydia Martin.

"Get on the bed." Jackson motioned with his jaw, starting to unbutton his shirt. Scott glanced nervously at the bottle on the dresser.

Catching what he's looking at, Jackson sneered. "If it'll make it easier on you, you should drink up. But if you wanna black out tonight, just finish up the whole bottle."

Scott raised his eyebrows. To be honest Jackson wasn't bad looking, and it wasn't as if he had anything against the jock really. He doesn't know if he would want to forget this, but Scott's throat is just really really dry.

Jackson scoffed silently as Scott poured out a cup. He took a gulp and coughed when the liquid burned. Jackson laughed as Scott thumped himself on the chest.

"First time drinking?" he jeered.

Scott shook his head, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. "No, I- I've. I just never... done this before..." He waves at Jackson laid out on the bed.

"C'mon, ain't that different with a girl." Jackson pats the mattress impatiently. When Scott hesitated and worried his bottom lip, Jackson looked stricken. "You can't be serious. You're a virgin?" he demanded.

Scott shrugged. They're only sixteen after all, not everyone choose that kinda lifestyle. Jackson was judging him so hard though, and Scott couldn't help feeling inexplicably ashamed. He averted his eyes and took another drink.

"Aw, shit."

Scott waited while Jackson sighed, looked conflicted, and eventually rising off the bed. Scott watched as he picked up the dropped packet. 

"Come here."

Scott leaves the cup on the dresser and joined Jackson at the bedside. "You want to try this, don't you?" Jackson's face was still drunk-red, but he sounds sobered. 

Scott licked his lips, forehead furrowed with nervousness. The pulse in his ears started getting louder. "Yeah?" He's pulled closer to Jackson. 

Jackson became oddly tender then, gently cupping his face and kissing him like- like he's making love to Scott's face. Scott melts into him, stroking the stark lines of Jackson's hips. They're pressed chest to chest, heating up like a fever. 

Jackson's fingers ran something electric on Scott's scalp and he moaned. They broke apart with a gasp and Jackson began mouthing his way down Scott's neck. Scott's knees buckled and he falls backwards into the bed, taking Jackson with him.

"Oof!"

They were both panting lightly. Jackson leaned over him, all flushed and pretty. Scott appraised the body hovering over his, the butterflies in his gut kicking up a frenzy. He wants this, wants more of Jackson than just his hands and mouth. His skin feels alight with fire. 

"Just relax."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now we fade to black


	3. Slipping Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slipping Away - Sum 41

Scott yawned and shuddered under his jacket. He's sore and tired, and all he wants now is to just crash into bed. He unlocks the door pushes inside. The front door creaked open and knocked over an empty beer bottle. 

The living room was lit, and it appeared their dads have had some friends over. 

Glass bottles and tin cans littered the space. Makeshift ashtrays had popped up like fungi and remnants of food smeared the couch. A house of cards miraculously stood on the coffee table, and a lone red stiletto heel hung from the ceiling fan.

"Goddammit" Kyle grumbled. He tiptoed over the mess, heading straight to his bedroom.

Scott sighed and hung his jacket. He starts picking up the trash.

"Leave it, Scotty." His cousin frowned. Scott shrugged and kept cleaning.

Kyle threw his arms up in defeat and turned his back. "Fine, I'm not helping."

"Night, Kyle."

 -

It's hard to focus on breathing and be where the coach needs him to be. Running across the field is a strain and he's getting clumsy with his aim. He had fumbled twice on passing, and could feel his embarrassment flaring under the helmet. The lacrosse coach yelled at him at lot. 

Scott was starting to wheeze. Someone calls out to him and he catches the ball neatly. He really doesn't want to admit defeat, but a particularly hard body-check sent him bowling over and Scott forgot to breathe.

His throat seized and it felt as if his chest was getting compressed. Scott gasped and drew no air. He ripped off his helmet and scrambled for his inhaler, face screwing up and darkening as he struggled to breathe.

God, he is going to die.

The inhaler clacked against his teeth and Scott bit down, pressing the canister and feeling the cool blast of the dilator in his mouth. He pulls it out to cough violently before trying again. One puff, two.

His airway opens and he's breathing again. Scott's chest heaves with relief as he greedily sucks in air.  

His eyes opened and Scott was startled to find himself surrounded by his teammates. Some were staring at him in mocking amusement, and others morbid curiosity.

The coach was towering over him looking thunderous. Scott could feel shame creeping up his face and hurried to put on his helmet again.

"McCall, on the bench!" The coach snarled at him. He then proceeded to pierce everyone's ears with his whistle, waving his arms to ward off the gathered crowd. "Show's over you little freaks!"

"Coach, wait! I can still play!" Scott protested. The coach whirled on him and jabbed a finger in Scott's face.

"You're no use to me dead, McCall!"

For a second it was like his dad was talking.

"Now go keep that bench warm!"

Scott sighed and hung his head, mumbling a sullen "yes, coach" before jogging towards the bleachers. He should be used to the rejection, yet it stung every time.

The coach blew the whistle and it's game on as if nothing happened. 

Scott slumped down in his seat, rubbing the back of his glove over his chest. He has been working hard for this over the summer, carefully building up stamina and practicing on his coordination. After all the effort, it's horribly disappointing to be made to sit out again while everyone else's playing.

Scott watched the others run across the field with envious eyes. He knows it's no good to wish for what they have. Sometimes he wants to shrivel up from the intensity of his jealousy. He tugged off his helmet and ruffled his hair in frustration.

Scott doesn't notice the team captain watching him with narrowed eyes.

Jackson was standing off-field waiting to get called on by the coach. The star player had watched Scott's performance with increasing criticism and obvious disapproval.

As if sensing the heat of his glare, Scott turned his head and found the field star staring at him in contempt. Jackson's expression sours as he probably recognised the boy to be his one night stand.

Scott's eyes widened in alarm before darting away, attempting to shrink into his shoulders. A flitting side glance shows that Jackson's jaw had tightened. He can't believe he had wasted his time with such a loser. 

Scott buried his face in arms. He's made a mistake, he really shouldn't have done that. If only he could turn back time... 

"Let's go, Jackson!" saved by the coach, Scott stopped his ostrich impression and sighed heavily. He watched the team captain bound into formation.

Jackson was shorter than most in their age group, yet his presence was largely intimidating. The team playing against his visibly tensed. 

Scott kept his eyes on the 37 emblazoned on the back of Jackson's jersey.

The whistle blows and Jackson wins the faceoff, darting off and passing the ball to another midfielder. 

There's a flurry for possession of the ball, but Scott watches number 37. Jackson weaves around the opposing field, teasing and taunting their defenders. He suddenly swooped up, making a catch and safely cradling the ball. He flits through the defenders, too fast and wily, feinting a shot and making a pass instead. 

Jackson was nimble, barely breaking a sweat with all the running and jumping he did. Sometimes he'd glance back at the bleachers, grin wide and challenging, and Scott could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand. His gloves squeaked audibly as his fists tightened. Scott had never wanted to punch somebody as badly as he did now. 

Number 37 received the ball and made a spectacular shot. The ball zoomed past the goalie into the net, scoring a point. 

"Yeah! That's how you do it!! That's my boy!!" the coach yelled, grabbing onto one of the beach warmers and shaking the poor boy excitedly. "You see that?! That's how you play lacrosse!"

Jackson whirled around and pumped his fist in the air triumphantly. The team and the stands cheered. It was a fanfare all for him and Jackson was basking in it.

The coach whistled then, signalling the end of practice. Everyone jogged towards the stands for the routine cool-down exercises. 

"Man, why are you showing off so much?" Danny came up and nudged him, an amused albeit confused smile tugging at his lips. 

"You know me, I'm always a good show." Jackson made an flamboyant  gesture. Sure his moves were flashier than usual, he had been aiming to make a statement. "The chicks dig it."

"Yeah I'd believe that if you were actually looking at the girls."

That stopped him in his tracks. Everyone was busy doing their stretches, oblivious that the captain and his best friend were lagging at the back. Jackson pushed Danny a little further back. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" he hissed. It's not like Danny to bring this shit up. 

"Lydia told me you were freaking out about Saturday's guy." Danny shrugged as if it's no big deal. Jackson was sure his best friend's eyebrows were motioning towards the loser bench-warmer.

"Yeah, well that guy? He goes here." Jackson seethed, trying not to point at the asthmatic. Danny looks at Scott's direction anyway and Jackson refrained from stomping his feet. "She said it'd be no problem and she messed up big time!"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic. Scott's not gonna be any trouble, you know." He puts a comforting hand on Jackson's shoulder. "He's not the type to talk about others' business."

"Wait, what do you know?" Jackson jutted his chin at him sharply. "Did you actually talk to the guy?"

Danny groaned. "Will you chill?"

Jackson relents at Danny's frown. "Scott's not going to out us." He turned his best friend around and pushed Jackson towards the group. "And to quote Allison; it's not like anyone would believe him over us."

Jackson chuckled at that, fears abated. 

-

"Thanks, Mr Myers!"

Scott alights the schoolbus with two others. Hayley joins at his right, both of them waving Jenny goodbye as she lives on the opposite side of the neighborhood. 

They walked together in companiable silence, passing the skate park that's currently monopolized by some older kids. 

"They're always loud." Hayley observed. Scott watched them play, feeling the familiar longing lurch. "I don't really mind though."

Scott faced her, quirking a disbelieving eyebrow. Hayley laughed a little. "I mean, they're always around. What with the noise they're always making, its probably scaring off the animal that's attacking people."

"Huh, guess so."

"They're saying that the county's gonna issue a curfew." 

Scott makes a face at that. "I hope not. I've got late shifts for my part-time on Wednesdays and Fridays."

Hayley makes a sympathetic sound. "You should get Kyle to pick you up then." Scott shrugs noncommittally.

They arrive at his house soon enough. Hayley throws him a concerned look at the muffled shouting that could be heard coming from inside the house.

"Wanna come over my place? Mom bought twinkies yesterday."

Scott gives her a grateful smile and gripped his backpack straps tighter. 

-

There's another new face on the milk carton. An unpronounceable name and an awkward grin that stares back at him in black and white. 

Hayley gives him an inquisitive look and Scott shook his head, reassuring her with a smile. 

"He's in your year, right?" Hayley frowns at the photo before putting the milk back into the fridge. "I heard that the police came down to the school to interview a lot of people."

She dunks a twinkie into her milk. "Weird, cuz they usually only interview the friends of the missing kid, right?"

Scott hums. "Well, his dad is the sheriff."

Hayley exaggerates a gasp, looking especially comical with the dribble of milk on her chin. "No way, you spoke to the sheriff?"

Scott recalled how he had squirmed uncomfortably under the man's laser hot attention. "Yeah, I also got interrogated by the sheriff." He munches on his soaked twinkie while Hayley stares at him with round eyes. "I think he believes that his son might have run away from home. Or something."

"Really? Did he seem the type?"

"I don't think so? You could say he's a little bit of a troublemaker but he's... Content with the status quo."

They ate in contemplative silence then. Nothing ever happens in the little town of Beacon Hills, yet now there are missing kids from their own school and even dead people from some mysterious animal attack. 

Scott hopes that things won't get any more weird.


End file.
